The Pearls or

[smokingboot]

'Near Cantre'r Gwaelod'. This poem is about a coastal path in Wales, but the name eludes me. Not at Cantre'r Gwaelod quite, but I do not know if it is Borth...I need to go stare. I'll know it as soon as I see it.

A ship ran aground near here
with its cargo of pearls
for a queen grown crookt as a yew

Ropes of white silver
Pleased her hair and neck
She forgave the wild coast of her losses

The seaweed held her gifts
rockpool children thought
they were eggs or eyes of fishes

But the villagers called them lucky
pressing them into
walls worn and broken

Gleaming they lit
a way home for lost folk
by the shingle roads

On Seithennin’s stair,
moon's true revealing
sunken lands, wave-hidden.

Long since the queen passed
the sea-stones sing
of this her unknown country

©Debbie Gallagher copyright and all rights reserved 6th march 2015